


The World Turned Upside-Down - Hamilton/Stranger Things AU

by orphan_account



Category: Hamilton - Miranda, Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: 1980s, Alex is also bi, Alexander Hamilton is George Washington's Adopted Son, D&D, Demogorgon - Freeform, Eliza as Nancy (sort of), F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, George WashingDad, George Washington is Hopper, Hercules as Lucas (sort of), Hercules is pan, James as Will, James is also gay, James' parents are gone all the time, John IS Gay, John as Dustin, John lives with the Schuylers, John's dad kicked him out, Lafayette as Eleven, Lafayette has mind powers, Lams - Freeform, Little Jemmy, M/M, Marliza, Minor Character Death, Peggy is babysitter-Steve, Poor James, Sammy Seamonster, Seabury and Lee are assholes, Stranger Things AU, Thomas as Mike (sort of), george washington is a cop, i don't know how to tag, i'll probably add more later, james has anxiety, jeffmads - Freeform, mullette, oh and Lafayette is also gay but doesn't rlly know what romance or sexuality is, thomas is bi, upside-down
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-09 16:04:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19479313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "What was that for?"James shrugged. "I dunno... Just- thanks, I guess.""For what?""Everything. I mean," he began fiddling with the sleeves of his jacket, "you're always doing so much for me, and you're always there for me whenever I need someone to talk to, or just keep me company, and, like... God, what did I ever do to deserve you?""You don't have to do anything. I'm always going to be here for you no matter what.""Exactly. That's what I'm talking about. You're the one person who I'd be able to trust with anything. So.. Thanks for that, I guess." He grabbed his bike by the handles and hopped on, the tips of his shoes just barely reaching the ground to keep him upright on his too-big bike.Thomas smiled softly, "Anytime.""By the way," James ventured, a slight smile settling into his features, "it was a seven. The roll.""What?" Thomas asked, his mind taking a minute to process what that possibly meant."The Demogorgon," James said, "it got me."By the way, some of the plot points from seasons one and two are mixed together, but there will be two parts to this fic.





	The World Turned Upside-Down - Hamilton/Stranger Things AU

**Author's Note:**

> So this is basically the beginning scene in Stranger Things, where they play D&D and the Demogorgon makes its first appearance.  
> Also,  
> J E F F M A D S
> 
> I'm sure anyone who's seen Stranger Things has at least a basic idea of the plot and what happens in this chapter, and if you haven't seen Stranger Things, (I don't know why you're reading this if you haven't seen it but I mean, you're welcome to) good luck with this mess.

_ Thomas's  _ POV

"As you cautiously trek through the forest, suspicious of the dark, still trees around you, your party stops to listen. There is a soft rustling, to your left. Looking around, you realize it's coming from the tall, thorny bushes on the side of the path. Something is coming. Something hungry for blood. It's almost here." 

Thomas glanced over his notebook, scanning the faces of his friends sitting around the small table. On the table was a board covered in one-inch squares to create a graph. Small, detailed figurines were huddled in the board, within the boundaries of the narrow path Thomas had drawn on with a wet-erase marker. In the minds of the teens, however, it was not merely a board with toy figures on it. They were not in John's basement sitting around a too-small table one day after school. They were not just a squad of geeky fourteen-year-old losers. In their minds, they were daring adventurers, traveling through a dark and mysterious forest to get to the ancient ruins rumored to be hidden in a secret meadow deep within the woods.

Well, except for Thomas. Thomas was basically a god. He was the creator of the world his friends were now exploring, and he controlled everything within it. To some extent, anyway. Everything that happened in the game depended on the players' actions. That's why Thomas had planned out everything and anything that could happen depending on the choices his friends made and the paths they chose. He had the little made-up world shaped into a complex alternate reality, all written down on several slightly tattered, lined pages in an old notebook.

He shivered a little as a gentle breeze drifted through the basement, and imagined a cold wind stirring up the magical forest, shaking the old branches of the trees, and setting his adventurers on edge. A small smirk tugged at his lips.

"What is it?" Whispered the boy sitting beside him, barely audibly. James, Thomas' best friend, glanced at him, dark, anxious eyes meeting his unforgivingly mischievous gaze.

"You'll just have to find out," he replied, grinning. The smaller boy's eyebrows drew together. Thomas looked away, now addressing the other two as well, "What do you do?" 

James opened his mouth, uncertainly, when he was cut off by another boy, Hercules, from across the table. 

"Wait, it isn't the Demogorgon, is it?" He said, adjusting in his seat, "I don't think we're ready yet-"

"Oh,  _ shit _ . We're so screwed if it's the Demogorgon," said John, the last of the boys seated around the board. Concern was set into his features, but there was also definitely a hint on exasperated humor in his voice when he focused on Thomas and pleaded, "don't kill off our characters yet. I'm rather attached to Toralin Larkenshnarf the third, and I want him to live to see another campaign."

Thomas smirked, and this time, John visibly paled. "Shit..." He repeated. 

Hercules shook his head. "It's not the Demogorgon," he reassured, "good ol' Tommy wouldn't do that to us, right?" He smiled confidently, certain Thomas wouldn't throw such a difficult monster at them at this stage in the campaign.

Rolling his eyes, Thomas asked, "Are you gonna do anything or not?"

"I guess we'll just pull out our weapons and hope for the best," John sighed.

Thomas waited a moment, with a raised eyebrow, as if to say, 'you sure?', before announcing, "Four goblins charge out of the bushes and onto the path!" 

John let out an exasperated sound and visibly slumped in relief. "Goblins? Really?"

"Told you," Hercules declared, smugly leaning back in his chair. "Thomas isn't  _ that  _ cruel. I'm sure he'll give us plenty more time to prepare before he unleashes that monstrosity on us."

"Yeah, John, c'mon. I'm not that bad am I?" With this, he glanced over at James and winked.

James looked away and chuckled, red dusting his cheeks. Thomas absolutely  _ adored  _ the way James' eyes crinkled around the corners when he laughed, and was immensely proud of himself for being the main reason those laugh lines were there.

Thomas had known James since they were very young, and with that came the knowledge of James' difficult home life. He had nice parents that loved him very much, but for at least a few years now, they'd been having some troubles in their marriage. More often not, they were gone on trips out of town, most likely dealing with whether or not that wanted to get a divorce. (They never told James exactly why they kept leaving, probably to protect him from the stress of knowing his parents would no longer be together, but James was one of the most intelligent and observant people Thomas knew, and had easily figured out what was happening on his own.) So whenever his parents went off on one of their trips, James would be left alone at his house for days on end. Predictably, this has not done anything to help his mental state. Especially for someone who already had anxiety, and got sick so often he pretty much always had a small cold. That's why Thomas always did everything in his power to make James feel happy and safe. There was nothing he loved more than the sound of his laugh, because it meant Thomas had succeeded in his goal. Even for just a tiny moment.

Then James started talking, and bringing himself away from his thoughts and back into reality, he realized he'd been staring.  _ Oops _ .

"Thomas Jefferson," he started, mock-seriousness smoothing over his features, "you are the absolute  _ worst _ ."

"Ohhh!" Hercules and John both exclaimed at once, then immediately burst into laughter. James didn't usually say much, but sometimes there was the rare occasion where they managed to get him to say some of the most clever and sarcastic comments they'd ever heard, and it was positively brilliant. James was brilliant.

Thomas feigned offense, dramatically putting his hand to his forehead, and draping himself across James' lap. "Betrayal!" he gasped, clutching the fabric of his shirt right above his heart, "How could you, James Madison, my  _ best friend _ ," at this, he heard John jokingly gasp in offense, "accuse me of such a thing!?"

James smiled and playfully (reluctantly) shoved Thomas back upright, off his lap, and then scolded, "Come on, we need to keep playing. We're never gonna get anything done at this rate."

Noting the definite blush now showing more clearly on James' dark skin -  _ mission accomplished _ \- Thomas replied, "fine," and repositioned himself back to how he was sitting before. "The goblins snarl viciously, and you raise your weapons to fight, when they all suddenly go completely still, eyes wide. Then one of them shouts something in goblin gibberish, and they scatter." He finished, looking up into the surprised faces of the adventurers. 

"I'll roll for perception," Hercules said immediately, "something must have scared them off."

"Roll your D20."

Hercules grabbed his twenty-sided die from the table and rolled it into the center of the board. "Seventeen!" He proudly stated.

"You feel a low rumbling under your feet. It's slowly getting louder. Boom.  _ Boom _ .  _ BOOM! _ " Thomas raised his voice for dramatic effect, and James clenched his fists in apprehension. Part of Thomas' mind told him to reach out and take James' hand into his, comfortingly, but, of course, James wasn't actually in danger. It was just a game, and it was his job to make things dramatic and suspenseful. Plus, that would be ridiculous anyway... "That didn't come from the goblins, no. That came from somethin' else."

He was silent for a moment after that, and he observed the expressions on his friends' faces; James' was somewhere in between surprised and nervous, Hercules ' features were set into concentration, and John's face held the most 'done with the world', 'I knew it' expression Thomas had seen from the boy throughout all the campaigns he'd DM-ed. Then he reached into his little, cardboard box of figurines, pulled out a two-headed monstrosity, and slammed it down onto the table. "The Demogorgon! Roll for initiative!"

"You've got to be  _ kidding  _ me! I was just starting to believe you'd go easy on us for once!" He exclaimed, exasperated.

"Oh, you know me, I couldn't resist. Plus, this is kinda your guys' faults anyway. What'd you roll?" 

"Five," John mumbled.

"Herc?" 

"Twelve." 

He paused for a second to write down the numbers. "Jemmy?" 

James muttered something unintelligible.

"Huh?"

"Nineteen." 

"Okay." Thomas rolled his own twenty-sided die as initiative for the monster in front of them. Seventeen. "James, you're first. Whatever you do, make it count, because the Demogorgon's next."

"Uh," James started, quietly, scrunching up his face in concentration, "I don't know, what should I do?" As the cleric, James' character usually wasn't the one to make big, powerful moves, but right now, it looked like that would be his only option.

"You should fireball that son of a-" Hercules started, only to be cut off by John a moment later.

"No, that's way too risky. Cast protection!"

"What? No way. Are you insane?" Hercules said, turning to John, "We should take this opportunity to get in some hit points!"

"And if it fails? He'd have to roll a thirteen or higher. It's too risky. Cast protection."

John and Hercules continued to argue, and James looked at Thomas desperately through the chaos. He shrugged, apologetically. James shook his head, then grabbed his twenty-sided die while the other two were busy fighting, and shouted "Fireball!" When he let go of the die, it tumbled onto the table, then, due to the unfortunate size of the table, slid over the edge and landed somewhere on the floor. John and Herc, who had been silenced by the unexpected shout, both immediately sprung into action. 

"Where'd it go?"

"Was it a thirteen?"

Hercules got down on his hands and knees to look for it, and both John and Thomas got to their feet to look around. James on the other hand, Thomas noticed, shrunk back into his chair, surprised at the reaction of his friends.

"John!" Someone shouted from upstairs.

"What!?" John yelled back, rather than going upstairs to see why they needed him. After a moment of not getting an answer, whoever it was called his name again and, frustrated, he stomped up the stairs. Thomas followed loosely, while Herc was looking for the die, wondering what was going on.

"What do you want?" John asked when he got to the top of the stairs. The person who'd been calling him was John's older sister, Angelica. Well, step-sister, technically. John had started living with the Schuylers about a year and a half ago after his dad disowned him. It has been a normal day, when John, after he came home from a school, bravely came out as gay to his homophobic father, and just like that, he was told to pack his things and leave. Luckily, the Schuyler sisters, Angelica, Eliza, and Peggy, had known John for years, and had already basically formed the 'John Laurens Protection Squad'. So when they learned about him getting kicked out, they begged their father to take him in.

"It's ten after. Dad says you guys need to be done with your game, and your friends need to go home." At this point, Thomas had made his way to the top of the staircase as well.

"Could we maybe just have like, twenty more minutes," he cut in, "we kind of need a better place to stop and-"

"No. You guys were already supposed to leave ten minutes ago." Thomas opened his mouth again to protest, and Angelica narrowed her eyes. This Schuyler, in particular, had never been extremely fond of Thomas, for reasons unknown to him. So, after a moment of hesitant consideration, he shut his mouth, deciding not to make the situation any worse.

Just then, the youngest Schuyler sister, Peggy, was walking through the kitchen, where Angelica was standing, and Job ran over to her and grabbed her arm. "Pegs, don't you think Angie should let us keep playing? Just until we find a good stopping point?"

Peggy stopped in her tracks, looking over, sympathetically, at the situation. "Sorry John, but I'm pretty sure that I have absolutely no say in this."

John let her go and looked begrudgingly back at Angelica. She shrugged. "Dad's orders, not mine."

"Fine," he said. Then he gestured at Thomas, "You go tell the others. I'm gonna go see if Eliza wants that extra piece of pizza."

As Thomas made his way down the stairs, he heard Hercules make a sound of triumph, and he assumed they'd found the die. "We're pausing the campaign, guys," he said as he entered the room, "it's about nine-fifteen, and we all need to get home.”

James nodded, and an 'aww' of disappointment came from Hercules. Then Thomas packed up his stuff into his backpack, swung it I to his back, and they went out the back door and around the house to the driveway, where John was waiting.

"Sorry we have to put the game on hold," he said, as Thomas, James, and Hercules retrieved their bikes from the garage. "we were just really starting to get into it too. But, it's a school night, and my dad- er,  _ Mr. Schuyler _ doesn't want worried parents showing up, wondering why their kids are still here in the middle of the night."

James let out a tiny huff at this, and Thomas internally cringed for him, realizing how ironic those words were in his case. James had never had the best relationship with his parents. Sure, they loved and cared for him, and he loved them back, but, and especially because of recent events, his parents had grown rather distant. Literally. They were more often gone from the house than not. Thomas decided to talk to him about it later.

"It's fine," assured Thomas, pretending, for the time being, that he hadn't noticed James' reaction, "we'll finish later. It might be better to start the next game with a big fight anyway."

"Yeah, I guess so," John responded. "Anyway, I tried asking Liza if she wanted that last slice of pizza, right? But she was on the phone with someone when I asked her, and instead of politely declining or something, she practically slammed the door in my face!"

Sounds of sympathy came from the others, and James asked, "Isn't Eliza usually really nice?"

"Yeah, she is," he responded, burrowing his eyebrows, "but I think maybe she was in the middle of an argument? I don't know. I think she was talking to her friend, Maria." 

"Hey, speaking of your sisters," started Thomas, cutting in, "do you have any idea why Angelica hates me so much?" 

"Angelica?" John sounded surprised. "She doesn't hate you."

"Really?" he said, also in a moderately surprised tone.

"Yeah, why would she hate you?" 

"I don't know, that's the point."

"Then why do you think she doesn't like you?"

"You know what, never mind."

Hercules cleared his throat. "Hey, if you guys are done shit-talking John's sisters, I think I'm gonna go." He hopped into his bike.

"See you, man," John said, smiling.

"Later." He saluted and took off down the street.

John turned back to Thomas and James. "Well, you guys better get going as well, but before you go, is there any chance either of you want that slice of pizza?"

"Yeah, no offense," Thomas said as he and James climbed into their bikes, "but that piece is cold and stale by now. Nobody wants it."

"You could just warm it up in the microwave," he mumbled.

"No. John, the only good pizza, is fresh pizza. And warming it up in the microwave is probably one of the least appetizing ways to prepare it. C'mon James." At that, he rode his bike out into the street, James close behind. He could practically sense John roll his eyes at him. "Bye!"

"See you," John muttered.

As they cruised away from the Schuylers' house on their bikes, Thomas and James fell into a comfortable silence. Now it was just them. Him and James. Now’s as good a time as any.

"So," he started, breaking the silence, "what's been going on at home? Anything new with your parents?"

James glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, not having expected the question. "Uh, I don't know, not much." He sounded uncertain, like maybe something  _ was  _ going on that his parents weren't telling him. Typical. His parents never told him anything. James had completely figured out in his own that they were thinking about getting a divorce, by listening in to conversations and putting the pieces together in his head. That's why they were gone so often. Why they were always going on 'trips' and leaving him at home by himself. Thomas assumed that they never told James anything as a way of protecting him from the truth, but if this was the case, they were obviously underestimating how intelligent their son was. After a moment of hesitation, James finally said, "I... Think they're leaving again soon."

Thomas looked over at him. "Again? Seriously?" James nodded. Thomas glowered at the spot of the road that was illuminated by the headlight on his bike. This wasn't fair. Could they not see the consequences their actions were having on James? This was ridiculous. "James, I don't know how you're putting up with this. You deserve better! They're treating you like a little kid that can't handle the truth! Wait, no. You know what? No one would leave a kid alone at their house for a week. This is even worse. You need to say something to them, James. This is ridiculous. You shouldn't have to be putting up with this."

"Thomas..."

"No. They can't treat you like this any longer. I have some choice words I'd like to say to them, and I don't know if I can hold my tongue anymore-"

"They're my parents!" James yelled over Thomas' ranting. Thomas blinked.

"I-" he sighed. "Sorry," he said quietly.

"It's okay, Thomas, it's just, you can't take all of the responsibility for other peoples' actions. Yes, they need to deal with their shit, but my parents are trying their best. They really do care about me, they just... don't know how to."

"Then clearly their ‘best’ isn't working! They don't need to be trying harder; they need to be trying  _ differently _ ."

"Yeah, I know. But there's nothing I can do about it."

"Yes, there is," Thomas insisted, " _ talk _ to them."

"I-" James started, looking away, "No. It's fine. I can take care of myself."

"But you shouldn't have to."

James shook his head and didn't say anything. 

Thomas let out a huffed breath and focused back on the dark road. They were approaching the slope that led down to his house. Suddenly, he grinned. "I'll race you," he said, mischievously. James looked up, realized where they were, and smiled as well.

"You're on." Then, without warning, the smaller boy stood on his pedals and sped down the hill.

"Hey!" Thomas shouted after him, laughing, "I didn't say go!" He peddled frantically to catch up, and soon both teens were speeding down the hill, the wind blowing their hair out of their faces. It was obvious who was going to win. They both skidded to a stop in his driveway, one after the other, and Thomas hopped off his bike. Then as soon as James had parked his bike, he tackled him from behind in a hug. "You  _ cheater! _ " They both started laughing, and James leaned back into his grip. 

"I wouldn't have had a chance if I hadn't gotten a head start!"

"Ha! Because you're short!"

James broke out of Thomas' embrace and turned around to face him, folding his arms and smiling. "Being as tall as you are should be illegal." It was true that Thomas was ridiculously tall compared to him. Due to both his height and James' lack thereof, there was at least a head's difference between the two.

"You're just jealous~" Thomas singsonged, grinning.

"No, you just have an unfair advantage, so I had to do  _ something _ ."

"So being short is an excuse for cheating?" 

"Having long legs is cheating!"

"Whatever you say, Jemmy." Thomas took a stride forward and enveloped him in his arms again. "You need to get home." James made a small sound of protest at the words, and just as Thomas was about to release the boy from his embrace, James wrappers own arms around his middle, hugging him tightly. Eyes widening in surprise, Thomas hugged him back again with equal force.

When they finally broke apart, Thomas stated at James, his face heating up slightly. "What was that for?"

James shrugged. "I dunno... Just- thanks, I guess."

"For what?"

"Everything. I mean," he began fiddling with the sleeves of his jacket, "you're always doing so much for me, and you're always there for me whenever I need someone to talk to, or just keep me company, and, like...  _ God _ , what did I ever do to deserve you?"

Thomas shook his head. "You don't have to do anything. I'm always going to be here for you no matter what."

James sighed, "Exactly. That's what I'm talking about. You're the one person who I'd be able to trust with anything. So.. Thanks for that, I guess." He grabbed his bike by the handles and hopped on, the tips of his shoes just barely reaching the ground to keep him upright on his too-big bike.

Thomas smiled softly, “Anytime.”

"By the way," James ventured, a slight smile settling into his features, "it was a seven. The roll."

" What? " Thomas asked, his mind taking a minute to process what that possibly meant.

"The Demogorgon," James said, "it got me."

Then it dawned on him. The roll. When James had rolled to cast fireball on the Demogorgon. He'd completely forgotten. He shook his head a little, "We'll see about that."

Then James took off, and, riding down the street, he shouted, "Bye!"

"See you tomorrow!" Thomas called back, giving him a half-wave. Only once the boy was completely out of view did he grab his bike and walk it into his garage.

  
  


James rode away from his best friend’s house, still smiling faintly. Thomas always left him with a warm feeling in his chest. A feeling of belonging, and- dare he say -being loved, and something else that he couldn’t quite place. Though, he wished they’d had a little more time together that night. As always. 

It was strange. He and Thomas had always been close, but especially more recently, he couldn’t seem to get enough of the boy. Whenever they were apart, James found himself getting bored or lonely, and he’d start daydreaming about the many afternoons they’d spent together. Sometimes he’d even drift off during class, and only realize that he’d completely missed an entire lecture when the teacher started passing out papers. Even when he was with Thomas, he always felt like he had to be near him. 

Any form of physical contact was golden, even simply having his shoulder pressed up against Thomas’. He often caught himself subconsciously leaning toward Thomas during group discussions or at lunch with his friends, to do just that. It made him feel more  _ there _ . More alive and in the moment. That was the kind of effect Thomas had on him. Sometimes when Thomas noticed this simple action, he would even put his arm around James. Those were James’ favorite moments. Not only did it help him to be more real and seen, but it made him feel safe as well. Like he could actually talk and come out of his shell. Like he could share his opinions and ideas without people getting annoyed or angry with him. Because Thomas was safe. Thomas was his safe place.

As James turned onto the street leading to his house, Mirkwood (as he and his friends had named it after a forest in The Hobbit), the headlamp on his bike shining dimly through the thin fog as he rode deeper into the depths of the trees surrounding Hawkins, he shivered, the warm feeling in his chest slowly drifting away. Most of the snow from the winter had already melted, but it had yet to get warm enough to drive away the cold, foggy, frosty nights that the town seemed to be doomed to forever. Luckily, he had on his iconic blue and yellow vest, and a light jacket, so he was at least mostly protected from the cold. For the short ride home, anyway. However,  _ something  _ was causing goosebumps to erupt down his arms, and if it wasn’t the cold, then James was clueless about the reason.

James stared at the asphalt gliding under his bike as he thought. Maybe his allergies were starting to act up. Or maybe it was from another cold. Or it was possibly a combination of the two? He practically always had a cold, and since it was getting warmer, it wouldn’t be surprising if he woke up with a stuffy nose and a sore throat from the allergies. He hoped he wouldn’t have a cough, because as soon as Thomas found out he wasn’t feeling well-

The light on his bike suddenly flickered and went out, and a strange, quiet noise sounded from somewhere in the forest. James looked up. His heart skipped a beat, and alarm flooded his senses. Something was standing in the center of the misty, moonlit street ahead of him. He lost control of his bike.

Violently steering off to the side, his bike rolled off of the road, and crashed into a ditch on the side, James landing in a startled heap next to it. 

There had been a man on the road- or, at least, that’s what James’ immediate thought was. However, the figure was much taller and slimmer than any person he’d ever seen. Even Thomas. James scrunched up his face.  _ Please don’t compare that thing to Thomas. _

The being had looked like it would easily clear nine feet, but with it hunched over, it had been hard to tell. He’d only been able to see it’s dark silhouette in the fog, but the way its arms- Were they arms? -stuck out awkwardly from it’s thin, boney structure couldn’t possibly be human. They were much,  _ much  _ too long, and, if he wasn’t mistaken, the outstretched fingers of the creature could have been clawed.

He scrambled onto his hands and knees, climbing away from the road as quickly his short legs and shocked mind would allow. James glanced back at the road with wide eyes, only for his stomach to twist in horror at what he saw. The thing was very much still standing there, slightly hunched over on the road. It turned toward him. Definitely not human.

_ Run. _

He ran. He stumbled to his feet, feeling a sudden, sharp pain in his ankle that told him he must have sprained it slightly, but he did his best to ignore it. Forgetting about his bike, James sprinted in the general direction of his house. It wasn’t far. All he had to do was make it inside, and his parents would be there, and they’d hug him and tell him everything was going to be alright. He could make it. He was so close.

His heart hammered in his chest as he staggered into the gravel driveway of his house, and when he reached the door, he flung it open. Once inside, James slammed it behind him and fumbled shakily with the chain lock, dropping it three times before he finally managed to slide it into place. Then he slumped down and took a deep breath. He was home. He was safe. His parents were- 

Where were his parents? As he stared around the dark empty house, his heart sank. “Mom?” He received no answer. That’s when he noticed the note hastily scribbled out on a piece of paper that was taped to the wall next to the door. Tears sparked in his eyes, and dread nestled itself deep in the pit of his stomach. They’re gone.  _ Again _ . 

Carefully, he straightened himself upright and walked over to the living room window. Gently, he pried up one of the blinds to peek outside.  _ I’m probably overreacting. I’m safe now. The door is locked, and I’m in my house… alone. But I’m- _

Through the haze surrounding his house, a huge, bony silhouette stood lopsided in the cold glow of a streetlamp. There it was. It was moving towards him like a mindless zombie with only one instinct: Hunt. Kill. Feed. James felt his throat start closing up, and he gasped desperately for air, feeling as if his heart was going to explode out of his chest. _ Not now not now oh god not now-  _

He jerked away from the window and raced for the phone. Taking it off the latch and, trying to keep his hands as steady as possible, he was able to dial Thomas’ number. He desperately put it to his ear, listening for anything other than the muted humming of the phone ringing out. “Pick up, pick up, pick up-” James glanced toward the door in anticipation, only to let out a startled gasp of horror as he could see the shadow of the beast through the blurry door window.

Right then, the phone clicked, and for a split second, James swore he heard Thomas’ start to say ‘Hello?’ when it was cut off by static. A new sound filled the speaker. The best way James could think to describe it was an awful, disgusting, other-worldly growling. The lock on the door clicked. The chain fell out of the slider. James dropped the phone and ran.

He barreled out the back door, gasping as if his windpipe had been cut off.  _ What’s happening!? _ He didn’t stop until he was barricaded in the wooden shed in his backyard. Like  _ that’ll do much _ , some part of his mind reminded. He shook his head to clear it. 

Flicking on the light-switch that connected to a single, painfully bright light bulb hanging from the ceiling, he snatched a rifle off of its position on the wall and scrambles for a dusty pack of bullets sitting on a shelf. Hastily, hands still shaking, he opened the box and slid them into the barrel of the gun one at a time. The only sound was the quiet clicking of metal on metal as he readied the rifle, and his quick, raspy breaths as he struggled to get air into his lungs.

When he finally put everything into place, he held it up with both hands, shakily aiming it at the door. He waited. And waited. Silence. Nothing was happening. His breathing slowly calmed to a slower pace.

_ Is it gone? _ James wondered, lowering the gun slightly.  _ Was that even... real? Maybe it wasn't. _ Maybe he'd just fallen asleep in Thomas' arms when they'd hugged, and Thomas had taken him inside and played him on the couch with a warm blanket, and he was safe, and this was all some messed-up nightmare and- 

The light flickered. James jumped.  _ Wake up wake up wake up- _ A strange, alien-like, otherworldly noise sounded from behind him. He slowly turned around. For a moment, he saw it. Right there in front of him. A huge, black and gray, slimy, bony, clawed creature, towering over him. As he looked up to catch a glimpse of its face, the light that was fixed into the ceiling, brightened impossibly. Everything was going white. He tried to lift the rifle in his hands, but it was as if his arms were petrified. The gun slipped from his grip and flattered on the floor. He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. He could barely see. The creature reached forward, extending it's long, sharp fingers, and the last thing James tried to do was look into the beast's face. Except... It didn't have one.

The whole room glowed white for a moment more. Then, everything went black.

_ "The Demogorgon... It got me."  _


End file.
